


Song of the Shepherd's Dog

by Lunatik_Pandora



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Childhood Trauma, Dark, Drabble Collection, Gen, HP Fanfic Writers' Guild, Horror, Malfoy Manor (Harry Potter), Non-Linear Narrative, Psychological Trauma, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Werewolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:22:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29543025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunatik_Pandora/pseuds/Lunatik_Pandora
Summary: Remus Lupin was in Hell. He had to be, otherwisewhy else would this be happening?(Written for the HP Fanfic Writers' Guild Horror Drabble Challenge)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 8
Collections: HP Fanfic Writers' Guild Horror Drabble Challenge 2021





	1. Little Lamb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #1: Serial Killer

The little boy struggled and squirmed as his mother tucked him into bed, tiny fingers reaching. She turned, grabbing his stuffed lamb and handing it to him with a smile, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Nos da, Remus.”

“Nos da, Mummy,” he mumbled sleepily as she closed the door behind her.

He couldn’t sleep yet; Tada hadn’t come in to check under his bed for monsters. Remus thought about calling him.

‘I’m brave,’ he thought. ‘I can do it myself.’

He peeled back his blankets, the cool breeze from the open window hitting tiny legs as tiny feet padded to the floor, tiny hands pressing flat against the wood as he ducked under the bed.

Dark eyes stared back, glittering like beetles over a wide, toothy grin.

“Hello, little lamb,” the monster under his bed rasped.

“I’m not a lamb; I’m a boy,” Remus said, half-petulant, half-hoping to explain he wasn’t food. He was glad he’d left Owen on the bed; if the monster didn’t see him, he couldn’t eat him.

A massive, filthy hand reached out to cup his pale face. A sharp nail dug into his wobbling lip; it hurt.

“I wonder if you’ll taste as good as the flock down in Idless, hm?”

The monster had sharp teeth; they tore into his thigh like Tada would tear into the mutton at supper. It wasn’t until he saw the blood that he remembered to scream.

Remus didn’t know about the boys in Idless who the monster had eaten last month, or the hikers in Bramblecombe the month before. But his Tada knew, he knew very well, and when he threw the monster from the window — from _his son_ — he’d wished he hadn’t been the only one who did.


	2. Lungs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #2: Creature

Remus knelt before the body lying prone before him, pale and cold in the dim light of the dungeon, shaking his shoulders roughly, begging him to wake up wake up _wake up._

But Harry slept on; Peter hadn’t pulled his punches with that Stunner.

He’d already tried dashing his head against the wall, tearing himself open, strangling himself, biting off his tongue; his traitorous blood healed him before oblivion could take him. If he’d been awake, Remus would have asked Harry to kill him before the moon rose. To take him by the throat and crush the wind from him, before Remus could tear his humanity away.

It was too late.

The unseen moon rose slowly, pulling at his bones like marionette strings. The transformation went easier if you didn’t fight it, but Remus resisted every shifting atom in his body, consciousness screaming as the beast clawed its way to the fore.

Remus remembered when James had first placed Harry in his arms, how his tiny hand had clasped around the tip of his index finger with surprising strength. He’d sworn to protect that boy with every fibre of his being, every breath in his lungs. Lungs that were now emptying themselves of agonized shrieks as he tried to forestall the inevitable. As his body betrayed him.

The pain was nothing: they’d locked him in. _Oh God _, they’d locked him in.__

____

And he was so _hungry._

____


	3. Contaminated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #3: Quarantine

Everything hurt.

The walls of the room — bright blinding sterile white — the lights from the ceiling, from wand tips, burning his eyes.

He wanted his mummy.

“You can’t touch him, he’s not safe.”

He wanted Owen.

“Merlin, this little lamb looks like it’s been to the slaughter.”

“It’s been contaminated; burn it.”

He wanted to go home.

“We’ll need to keep him here through the next cycle; if he’s lucky he won’t survive.”

The dressings on his thigh itched terribly; he wanted to scratch, but the green men in the masks had wrapped his hands in thick gauze.

“Even a scratch can be deadly; better safe than sorry.”

He wanted to ask where Tada was, but they’d put something on his face, rough leather and cold metal buckles. It stank.

“A muzzle? Iesu mawr, is that necessary? He’s just a child!”

“Can’t risk him biting someone because he’s in a temper.”

He wanted to go home.

He wanted to go _home._

**He wanted to go home.**

The curtains ripped off their rings and began beating the green men about their masked heads and he was screaming —

_Let me out LET ME OUT!_

— but no sound came. The green men pinned his arms down, pinned his legs, gloved hands smooth and rubbery — unnatural — against his skin.

“Get off him! You’re hurting him!”

_Mummy!_

“Get back, ma’am! He’s clearly out of control!”

“He’s a baby! He doesn’t understand!”

_Mummy, please!_

“Get her out of here!”

“Don’t you touch me! Let go of my son!”

_Mummy, help me!_

“For fuck’s sake, Williams, just Stun him already!”

“REMUS!”

For a moment, everything was bright blinding red. And then…

Nothing.


	4. Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #4: Barricade Failure

Before this year, Dean had never given much thought before to how he would die. He'd always thought he had plenty of time to worry about it. Now, however, he couldn’t _stop_ thinking about it. A curse to the back, tortured to death by people in black robes, bone-white masks covering bone-white faces.

But even in his worst nightmares, he'd never imagined this.

He'd always liked Professor Lupin. Soft-spoken, gentle Professor Lupin, always quick with a joke, always willing to listen. Even after the news broke — when Seamus had shuddered, "Can you imagine?" — and no, he couldn't.

Because Lupin didn't _want_ to eat children. But here they were.

The coppery tang of blood was heavy on the air, filled with the thudding of a heavy body hurling itself against the bars, snarling. Iron creaking as it warped, bent, and finally gave way. Claws scrabbling on stone.

Dean flattened himself against the wall, into the shadows, trembling fingers grasping Luna’s. Her hands were steady.

“We’ll be alright,” she breathed, bringing their clasped hands to her chest, her rabbit heart beating like wings against his fingers.

He closed his eyes and prayed the bars would hold til morning.


	5. Rational

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #5: It's coming from inside the house

The room was empty.

Blood spattered all over the walls, claw marks gouging the stone. The latch had been torn off the splintered door, swinging weakly from its hinges. There was no trace of the boy he’d left in the cell the night before. No trace of any of the prisoners, the bars wrenched open, and blood, blood, _blood._

“Christ.”

Peter had wanted to explain. He wasn’t a sadist — Remus knew he wasn’t — it’s why he’d knocked Harry out, so he’d never feel it. Surely Remus understood it had been a mercy: better at his hands than at the Dark Lord’s, right?

_Thud._

It was so quiet. Usually Bella was torturing the house elves by now. Kicking puppies or Draco. Sniping at Narcissa and Lucius. But it was so _quiet._

_Thud._

The wards being what they were, there was no way Remus had escaped. Not without his wand. Which meant he was still in the house.

_Thud._

The moon had set hours ago. Remus would be human again. Human and perfectly rational, the way Moony always had been.

_“Together?”_

_“Yes, I think so.”_

_Thud._

Peter thought of running. He was still alive, but at what cost? He was _tired._

_Thud._

Warm, ragged breath tickled the hairs on the back of his neck. A soft sob escaped him before bloody fingers clamped tightly around his throat, pressing him back against a firm body, a heaving chest. A scar in the soft crook of his arm, a scar Peter had put there.

Remus was standing before him, eyes alight with an unholy fury, lifting a bloody hand to place one of Narcissa’s cigarettes between his bloody lips. The fingers around Peter’s throat pressed harder, and his vision swam, fading.

_Perfectly rational._


End file.
